Too Many Mistakes
by Beyondthemegapixels
Summary: Then the door opened.  Uther Pendragon's smile faded fast when he saw the sight before him. Arthur tries to tell himself that he doesn't care that Merlin will die. MERTHUR. WARNINGS: Angst, hurt, blood, pain, beautiful sex, and uneatable heartache.
1. Seduction

**Too Many Mistakes**

No, this wasn't meant to happen, it was never meant to end like this…it wasn't meant to end at all.

***  
><em><span>ARTHUR'S POV<span>_  
>Arthur Pendragon woke to the un-naturally shrill sound of his manservant's early-morning motivational phrases, an alarm he had grown used to.<br>He watched at Merlin less-than efficiently stumble through his chambers, doing his regular chores, a comforting and homely sight for the young Pendragon, who couldn't help his lips twitching into a sleepy grin as Merlin began to tell him of how Gaius had subjected him to a laborious night of potion-testing yesterday, and he'd at one point ended up with a terrible and unstoppable case of constant burping, as well as macabre pus-filled pimples covering his entire person.

"…though he did manage to get rid of the majority of them, but really, I don't see why he's made me his personal potion tester in the first place! I'm still suffering with the aftermath – look!" Merlin charismatically drabbled, still clumsily trotting around the room.

He made his way towards Arthur to show him the evidence of last nights mishaps sliding off his neckerchief. Arthur couldn't help but stare glassy eyed at the young mans neck. Pale, untouched, with angular tendons extending the length of it, fading behind his ear, the soft dip in the hollow of his throat and his prominent collarbones slightly curving like the delicate edges of a hill, far off in the horizon, before joining onto his shoulders. The sound of his manservants voice drifting closer snapped him back into reality

"…and they still really itch too!" Merlin complained while swiftly turning around to give visual access to the violently oozing blotches on the back of his neck, before just as swiftly re-applying his signature neckerchief.

"As exciting as I find your unintended dermatological journey back to adolescence, Merlin, I would appreciate a bath sometime BEFORE I become king"

"Oh…yes sire"

And with that, Merlin quickly scampered out of the room gathering everything he needed to prepare the Prince's bath.

Arthur then began to remove his clothes to pass the time before his ridiculously inefficient manservant would return. He let his thoughts drift. He thought of the council meeting yesterday, of listening to his father reiterate his melodramatic hatred and consequential ban on magic. And quite honestly, he'd rather be Gaius' potion tester for a month than have to sit through that again. Finally his mind wandered to thoughts of Merlin.

_"Merlin" _He thought, with a smile. He'd grown fond of his loyal manservant over the past year, besides his blatant disregard for anything nearing a form of respect for the fact that Arthur was the _future king. _

Arthur thought of his serious face, that time Arthur had just about recovered from the apparently deathly bite of that damned Questing Beast, how he'd said he would want nothing more than to be his manservant, until the day he died.  
><em>Until the day he died. <em>Arthur shuddered at the prospect. Why should such a thought effect him that way? He'd been around death his whole life, of people he'd fought alongside, who had died in his arms. But no thought of death besides that of Merlin's could make the young prince react like this. _Hmph, odd, I guess…  
><em>

The thought of never seeing his clumsy working stance, his crooked grin way too early in the morning, his ridiculously large ears, some days partially covered by his seemingly silky black hair. Arthur wondered if it felt so as it looked…  
>His thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of Merlin's heavy, carefree footsteps approaching his chambers, at last.<p>

"What took you so long Merlin? I'd considered that you may have taken yourself to the stocks and saved me the trouble for the day" Arthur jibed out of habit, in a bored tone.

Merlin halted for a brief second at the door, staring at Arthur's nearly naked.

_Do I have something on my face?_ Pondered Arthur.

His manservant poured the steamy water into his tub as usual, there was nothing strange or weird about it, but as he saw Merlin's long, slender fingers clutch around the end of the water-filled bucket as he concluded pouring it's contents out into the tub, he felt something deep within his stomach tighten.

Arthur quickly inhaled and stepped into the tub after emerging once again from behind his blind after removing his remaining clothes, not looking back at Merlin for fear of where his thoughts might take him.

This however was eventually unsuccessful, as he began once more to let his eyes flicker upon his manservants still form, sitting on a worn wooden char near his cupboard, mistake number one.

He glanced at Merlin's face, his cheekbones, Arthur had never quite noticed how nice Merlin's face actually was, minus the almost comical size of his ears, though they did add to a certain aspect of the charm…Mistake number two.  
>But his breath hitched in his throat when he looked upon Merlin's lips. His pink, wet, full, mesmerizing…<p>

"Arthur? Are…you okay…?" Merlin grumbled in a high pitched voice.

Arthur blinked a few times, attempting to figure out the world again as he came out of his trance. Well, almost all the way out…mistake number three.

"Merlin, come here"

Merlin shuffled over to him without a thought, and glanced into Arthurs hazy eyes in search of what he was thinking.

"Arthur? What is it? What do you-"

And before he knew it, Arthur's lips were upon his, desperately clasping Merlin's bottom lip between his own as if his life depended on it.

It was awkward and stiff, but ultimately brilliant, yet also, very, very wrong.

But Arthur was in too deep now to realize this.

Merlin was startled at first, and seemed to wait for Arthur to pull away, laugh, and say: "_Haha! I got you!"_ with a friendly punch on the shoulder, but this did not happen, instead, this happened:

Arthur began to snake his hands behind Merlin's head, running his fingers from the nape of his neck through his hair, to the crown of his head, pulling him down toward the bath Arthur was still sitting in, beginning to hesitantly rise into a crouch, stopping in the middle.

Merlin stood in shock, not quite aware what was happening, he was sure that Arthur was kissing him, and running his hands along places he wasn't sure that he was all right with. But the intense warm swelling in his chest, and his stomach stopped him from jerking back and running away, instead, he tentatively slid open his mouth, going along with his instincts. Truth was, he'd never done this before. Freya wasn't much, honestly, just a simple peck on the lips. The emotions he had felt at the time made it feel like much more. But compared to this, it was miniscule.

Before Arthur even had the opportunity to think about what was going on, he'd slowly begun to get out of the tub, hissing when the cold air reached his bare nether regions. Both of the men's eyes were closed by this point, thoughts rushing to and fro behind their lids, while tongues rushed too and fro as well, freely and quick and wet with need.

The pair rose, only to topple back onto the ground as the water on Arthur's feet untied his foot's grip from the floor, bringing Merlin down with him.

The contrast of the cold floor against the mangle of their hot bodies was striking, and the pair gasped in unison, and Arthur could have sworn he saw Merlin's eyes flicker gold for a second, but his aroused mind was too musty to ever have a chance to think about this.

Arthur followed the orders filling his mind, he acted as he thought, on primal instinct. The two finally pulled back for air, and Arthur worked his way past Merlin's angular cheeks, kissing the peak of the bone hidden under the soft skin there, and made his way, kissing a trail along his jaw, making Merlin gasp and arch his neck to allow easier access, and Arthur took full advantage of this, sucking hard at the tender skin there and lightly biting the junction between his shoulder and neck muscle, the result being Merlin writhing beneath him, lifting his hips so Arthur could feel the bulge in his breeches nudging his naked thigh, it was enough to make Arthur let out a loud moan.

He'd never knew he wanted this, not until now. But it was happening, and it was oh, so glorious.  
>Arthur then decided that Merlin was wearing too many clothes, and decided to take it upon himself to solve this.<p>

"Too many…clothes, uh" came a husky grunt

"A-rthur...i..uh, what…I- what…are we do-" Arthur cut him off with a kiss.

"Shhhh, too much talking…too"

Arthur propped himself up on his knees, and pulled Merlin up with him by his tunic, so he was straddling his Manservants lap, his already erect and throbbing cock rubbing against the cloth that separated Merlin's body from his.

Merlin knowingly lifted his arms up and allowed Arthur to disrobe him of his tunic, throwing it off into god knows where.

Arthur kissed him once more, after, then put his forehead against Merlin's, looking downwards, and he could see Merlin's beautiful, lanky, yet toned, pale, chest, and rocked his hips slightly, causing some friction of his cock against Merlin's chest, his swollen balls grazing over Merlin's restrained bulge, causing him to throw his head back and groan, sweat building on his neck.

Merlin quickly regained his bearings and leant forwards to unstrap his boots, pressing his mouth against Arthur's chest as he did so. He kicked both boots off, and quickly pulled his wooly socks off afterwards.

Arthur had had enough. He needed this, he lusted, he _wanted _this. Whatever this was.  
>In his resolve he slid his fingers under the knots in Merlin's breeches and undid them with one tug, removing all of his clothing, leaving Merlin naked, and open, and so, unbearably beautiful. Mistake number four.<p>

Then the door opened.

Uther Pendragon's smile faded fast when he saw the sight before him.


	2. Atrocity

**A/N: Thanks for all of your positive reviews guys, they've motivated me to continue with haste**

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or it's affiliated characters, the BBC does.

No, no, no! Arthur screamed inside his head.

"ARTHUR PENDRAGON, What do you think you are doing? This…this…_disgusting_…act?" Uther's nostrils flared as he flew across the room towards the two naked, horror stricken boys.

"Guards, GUARDS!"

Arthur began to stand up, only to be slapped square across the face by his seething father, cheek stinking, and warm as he felt a careless trickle of blood flow down his face, mingling with the tears that soon followed.

The cold floor didn't seem as comforting as it had a few moments ago, instead the room was now filled with musky anger, fresh tears, blood and chaos.

Guards rushed into the room, and began to drag the prince's manservant away, fiercely and ruggedly. A desperate glance in his direction, into his blue eyes, wide with fear, as the guards dragged his exposed form to the dungeons.

That left Arthur alone in the room with his father, lying naked on the floor, looking up to the man helplessly, eyes wide with the same fear that had been present in Merlin's..

"Father, I can-" Arthur started, shakily.

"NO, you, you…disgrace! How could you Arthur? How could you do this to me? How will you live with yourself?" The King's booming voice filled his chambers, curling around Arthur, the disgust evident in his voice weighing down on him, pushing him further into the ground.

How could this be happening? It was a mistake, never meant to happen, a big, fucking, cataclysmic mistake…

Arthur sucked in a razor sharp and shaky breath; "It was…a mistake, father, i-"

"Do not call me that, I am no longer happy to call you my son, you, have shamed me too much." It was almost a whisper, but to Arthur's ears, it was the loudest thing that had ever been uttered to him.

_I am no longer happy to call you my son  
><em>  
>Uther's words drove a blade of pain deep into the bottom of Arthur's heart, into his very being, so sharp, it seemed to slice the will to argue right out of him, instead, he slumped onto the ground, and curled up into a protective position.<p>

The young prince had never looked to vulnerable.  
>And he'd never felt so…much…bad.<p>

_MERLIN'S POV_

The young warlock wanted to pretend that the fact that nothing felt real meant it was so. That he wasn't being dragged along the castles grounds, to the dungeons, naked, bloody, and numb.

Skin broke but he did not feel.

Tears formed but he did not cry.

He hadn't even wanted that, whatever that was…

He didn't realize that they'd reached the dungeons, until he was thrown carelessly into a dark, unlit cell at the very depths of the dungeon, landing hard and heavy upon the stone ground, discovering that all the strength in his body seemed to have left him, he didn't even think about what had happened.

Yet, his lips were still tingling, and he reached to touch them, placing his fingers where Arthur's own lips had been a few moments ago, and his lips flickered into what might have been a shadow of a smile.

Silent tears of regret formed a bloody soup beneath him, that he could do nothing but lay in, curling up into the fetal position, aching, bare and broken. Not even the buzz of his magic seemed to warm his blood now, instead, it rushed towards his aching fingertips, and filled them like concrete would fill a mold.

The sorcerer merely drew his stony fingers back up to his lips, and sighed and sobbed, his frail and mangled self creating its own earthquake inside his body, erupting from deep within him.

The Young Warlock had never looked so defeated.  
>And he had never felt so powerless.<p>

***  
>ARTHUR'S POV<p>

Days had passed; Arthur began to gather himself back up again, not daring to look a soul in the eye since that day. The whisper's that followed him seemed to haunt his very existence, taunting him, twisting around at his feet and nipping at his ankles, though he dared not retaliate.

"The boy is to be flogged, publically" His father had said, with a large, cruel grin.  
>Arthur tried to tell himself that he didn't care, that what he did was so, so wrong, and that Merlin had pushed him into it, indirectly, but it was his fault nonetheless.<p>

He told himself that he held no feelings for the servant, yet he began to immediately shut down at the thought of him on his knees, hands bound, too clumsy to get up and run away, too broken to even want to. Large, angry welts oozing with betrayal forming on his back after every excruciating flick of the whip.

He imagined Gaius, frail and powerless, watching, in horror as the boy he'd come to know as his son was almost surely sentenced to a slow death via infection, that they physician would most likely not be allowed to treat.

The knights, who had come to know and love Merlin in their own way, watching with guarded expressions. Lancelot not being able to help shedding a tear or two for his old friend.

Gwain looking away with a twisted grimace plastered over his face, Percival, stoically looking down, eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to falter.

Elyan would be pulling Gwen into his shoulder, shielding away both of their faces from watching the pain being inflicted upon a man who had helped them in more ways than they could remember, more ways than they'd ever know.

Leon, good old Leon would be the one to carry out these acts, as a statement to the people. Leon would wear a veil to hide the deeply pained expression that one would most surely possess for quite some time after indirectly killing a good friend.

A good friend, clumsy, silly, happy Merlin.

What would they tell Hunith? Arthur's stomach sank at the thought, of intruding upon the small, friendly village of Ealdor, and having to tell his mother and everyone who grew up with him, surrounded by his light, his unyielding smile, and his massive ears. He imagined Hunith, breaking right in front of him, blaming him, looking up at him with those same blue eyes that Merlin possessed, as she sank to her knees, begging, why? _Why is my son dead? Why didn't you protect him? He needed you, he always needed you, and you'll always need him, and it's YOUR FAULT that he's gone, he's all I had._

But he didn't care, and he couldn't. He was the crowned prince after all. He had been assaulted, as he told his father, and these were the consequences.

Yet with the knowledge of what was to happen the next morning, he lay in bed, dirty, hungry, and surrounded by a messy room that would not be clean for a while, and he cried.

_MERLIN'S POV  
><em>_  
>It's my fault.<em>He'd decided. He didn't know what was going to happen to him, and he was so, so scared.

**A/N: Short chapter, I know. Prepare your little hearts for the flogging scene next chapter D:**


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